


Jitters

by glim



Series: royal au [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Engagement, Fluff, M/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-12
Updated: 2011-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Arthur and Merlin attempt to plan their wedding. Modern, royal au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Invitations

Arthur could see the headline now:

FUTURE PRINCE CONSORT ABSCONDS! ARTHUR INCONSOLABLE!

And the sad, sad truth was, no matter how much the tabloids might mock him for it, he really would be inconsolable should Merlin decide to leave him alone anywhere near the altar. Completely and utterly and _embarrassingly_ inconsolable. There would be tears and, with his luck, horrible made-for-television films depicting his heartbreak.

At this point in the proceedings, however, he'd just been left on his own to make the final decision for the font on the reception place cards. Not, Arthur supposed, that there was much consolation in that. Part of him couldn't blame Merlin -- if Arthur had a meeting at work that he could use to get out of having to review dozens of samples, he most certainly would. In fact, he'd probably volunteer to attend Merlin's faculty meeting for him, never mind he knew next to nothing about plant sciences. He'd been to all the royal gardens, with Merlin in tow for most of those visits from age seven on, wittering on about various bits of flora that grew in the them. So, really, Arthur could invent _something_ to talk about. He'd been listening to that variety of Merlin-witter for more than twenty years now; he must've absorbed useful information listening to Merlin go on like that.

The part of him that had spent the whole afternoon being shown quite possibly the world's largest selection of paper weights and grades (though he and Merlin had already chosen some fine, heavy, recycled paper), inks (again, they'd already chosen something appropriately silver-grey and eco-friendly), and fonts wanted to drag Merlin back from his meeting and force him to examine each and every elegant script and decide which fit both their own and their guests' names best. Arthur had tried to enlist both his father's and Morgana's assistance, but both of them had just looked on rather indulgently and had only offered a modicum of help to narrow down the options. As if having eighty-five font choices was that much better than a hundred and twelve.

Before Arthur could surrender and opt for the script with the most absurd, pretentious name, he received two messages on his mobile. The first was a text that read "pick something plain." The second was a picture of some lush, green, leafy plants, the sort that wouldn’t typically be growing in London this early in the year.

Arthur shook his head and felt some of the tension ease from his body. He texted back a quick thank you and turned to the wedding planner. "We'll take the Lyonesse," he said and stood from his chair, "and now I really need to go hunt down some sandwiches and tea."

*

"You're hiding, aren't you?" Arthur pushed a few fronds out of his face and made his way down to the end of the path.

"Of course I'm not." Merlin was folded up on one of the settees, a book on his lap, his red scarf wrapped around his neck and his corduroy jacket pulled over his shoulders. "My meeting ended early."

Arthur sat down next to Merlin and leaned in close enough to nuzzle into the soft hair that curled behind Merlin's ear. He'd been in the greenhouse long enough to smell of warm, damp earth and fresh greenery and the scent was as familiar to Arthur as the soap and shampoo that Merlin used. It was all just _Merlin_ to Arthur -- plants and herbal soap and warm skin. Burying his nose into Merlin's hair, closing his eyes, and imagining that the world around them was as calm as they both wished it could be, helped dissolve a little more of the day's tension. The thought of Merlin hiding in the greenhouse, curled up here after his meeting and waiting for Arthur to come look for him, made Arthur smile more than he had expected it would when he had first received Merlin's text and picture message.

"Of course you're not," Arthur murmured and pressed a kiss behind Merlin's ear. "I brought tea."

That coaxed a smile from Merlin, too, and he put his book aside before curling in against Arthur. "Hot tea?"

"Hot tea. And sandwiches. Which I didn't make myself, so you don't need to look so worried. No odd flavor combinations." Arthur rumpled Merlin's hair before Merlin could deny such a suspicion and reached for the thermos.

There was the tea, still quite hot and strong, and roast vegetable and chicken salad sandwiches, which Merlin split so they each got half of both sorts. He ate quietly for a while, feeding Arthur the mushrooms from his veg sandwich when he got tired of them and nibbling on the leftover bits of chicken salad from Arthur's meal.

When they were left with just tea and biscuits, and Merlin had nestled Arthur's head onto his shoulder and his scarf over the back of Arthur's neck, Arthur gave Merlin a little nudge. "The next time you abscond, can you take me with you?"

"I wasn't not absconding. Or hiding. Or… anything like that. Not really." Merlin took a sip of tea. "Well. Maybe a bit. Just the hiding, though."

Arthur finished his tea so he could wrap an arm around Merlin and snug himself in closer to his partner. "We can not abscond and hide together, then."

"We can have a secret wedding. A secret greenhouse picnic wedding."

"With the tiny cakes that you like," Arthur added, smiling into Merlin's shoulder until the thought of a secret wedding made his chest ache with longing.

"Tiny cakes and hand-made invites. You know it would be perfect." Merlin's voice creaked a little on the last word and he cleared his throat. "I just meant, all the publicity and ceremony and --"

"-- I know. And it would." Arthur pressed his face into Merlin's jumper for another moment of quiet yearning, then pulled away and felt Merlin's scarf slip from his neck to his shoulder. "Maybe we could. You know, I would --"

"-- I know. I know you would. Which is why I'm going to marry you in front of the whole country." The odd, creaky sound crept back into Merlin's voice and he ducked his head away from Arthur. His hair was still rumpled and he looked a little worn out, but when he looked back at Arthur, he was smiling, and his eyes were blue and bright in the evening light that filtered through the greenhouse. "Are you nervous?"

Arthur touched his forehead to Merlin's. "Incredibly."

"All right, then. We'll be all right. Tiny cakes and fancy invites and proper wedding attire included." Merlin brushed his nose over Arthur's, then leaned in to kiss him. "Can we go back to mine tonight?"

"We can do that. We can absolutely do that."

*

When Arthur woke up the next morning, bed sheets and Merlin's limbs all tangled up around him in, there were at least a dozen messages waiting for him on his mobile. Four about the food for the wedding reception, four about his opinion on the rehearsal schedule, two from Morgana and/or Gwen asking him where he was and why he was the one doing the absconding, and two from Merlin, both short and soppy and very, very secret.

Arthur put his phone aside as soon as he'd flicked through the messages and saved the ones from Merlin. He burrowed down deeper into the blankets on Merlin's bed, dozing until the sun was bright enough to wake Merlin.

Who, when he did wake, blinked sleepily at Arthur a few times before nuzzling into Arthur's chest and mumbling something barely coherent about the plans for the day.

"Hm. Breakfast. Tailor. Thing at the uni you said I have to attend with you," Arthur replied.

Merlin mumbled something else Arthur couldn't understand. After some encouragement, he looked up at Arthur, tousled and flushed warm with sleep, and smiled. "I just said, that sounds all right. Good day, yeah?"

"Yeah." Arthur returned the smile and, because they had a couple hours, pulled Merlin back in against him. His hand slid from the nape of Merlin's neck to the small of his back, found the space where Merlin's skin was warm and soft and sensitive, and settled there to stroke gently until Merlin moved against him with a sigh. The months would turn to weeks, and the weeks to days and hours and minutes, and their quiet early morning hours in Merlin's tiny flat would be rare. This morning, though, Arthur decided could stretch out a little longer. "But we have some time before it actually starts."


	2. The Engagement Photos

"Oh my god, no."

"Merlin..." Arthur followed Merlin from the sitting room into the bedroom and watched as Merlin started to pull off his clothes. "It's not that bad."

"Yes it is. You're just -- See. This is another one of those things." Merlin waved one hand at Arthur before tugging off his hat and scarf, turning to Arthur while he tried to smooth down his fluffed-up hair. "One of those things that you don't care about, but that's just frustrating to me."

"What do you mean I don't _care_? Of course I care."

Merlin groaned and scrubbed both hands through his hair. This was at least the second, probably the third, time this week he'd come to Clarence House after work to spend the evening with Arthur and was met with some new royal responsibility or duty he was suddenly expected to take on. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes didn't make the headache that was starting to throb through his head go away; lowering his hands and blinking a few times made it obvious that the look of confusion and hurt hadn't disappeared from Arthur's face, either.

"I didn't meant it like that, like you don't care." Merlin took off his coat and draped it over one of the chairs in Arthur's bedroom. Next to him, Arthur let out a sigh of exhaustion laced through with the frustration that had been building since they announced their engagement. "Arthur, don't start. You know that I know that you care. But this isn't new to you -- you've done this before. Do you even realize how many photographs there are of you standing around looking handsome?"

That at least got a tiny smile from Arthur before he shook his head at Merlin. "Right, but how many are there of me standing around looking handsome next to my fiance?"

"Um. A few?"

"None. Because we weren't engaged yet. And --"

"-- and I don't understand why I can't just wear my own casual clothes for the 'casual' part of this photoshoot? And what does that even mean? How do photoshoots have formal and causal aspects?"

Arthur frowned at Merlin and they stood there, glaring at each other for a minute until Arthur gave another sigh and walked right up to Merlin, tugged on the hem of his jumper, and waited until Merlin glanced down at it. "Merlin. I love your scruffy jumpers and haphazard outfits and even that ancient coat that you wear when you go to work in the greenhouses. I even love your odd socks and the two suits you seem to mix and match for formal occasions. But."

"Arthur..." Merlin felt like sighing himself this time. There was, technically, nothing wrong with _any_ of his clothes. He'd been to any number of events with Arthur wearing them, from museum openings to charity dinners to sporting events. "I have a few --"

"What if I pick something out for you?" Arthur asked and the words practically spilled out, as if he were worried Merlin would interrupt him before he could get the question out. "What if I just pick out a few things and you can decide which you like best, and then the photographer and my secretary and you and I will all be happy. Please? I promise you don't have to wear anything you don't like and you can keep all of what you do like and if you want to wear that blue jumper you adore in one of the shots, honestly, that should be fine."

The frustration had faded from Arthur's voice and expression, though the exhaustion lingered, now matched with a spark of hopefulness. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes and his hair was ruffled up a little, but he was smiling and reaching to put both his arms around Merlin's waist. He nuzzled against Merlin's ear teasingly, then rested his head against Merlin's shoulder.

"If it were just you and I, you'd totally let me get my picture taken in my scruffy jumper and old jeans, right?" Merlin asked and found both his hands slipping up under Arthur's jumper to warm them against his skin.

"Hm. Probably?" Arthur tucked his face against Merlin's neck. "Your hands are cold," he murmured, then added, "I don't want to fight about this."

There, if Merlin had had any real doubt that Arthur cared about all these little things, like Merlin suddenly needing new clothes for engagement photographs to be released by Clarence House, then that doubt would've been erased by the quiet plea in Arthur's voice.

"Neither do I. Are you sure I can't just wear whatever? The grey jumper you got me for Christmas?"

"Mm... maybe? I'll pick you out a couple other things like that, though."

"Well. I'm seriously dubious about all this, but all right."

*

"Oh." Merlin blinked down at the spread of photographs in from of himself and Arthur. "They're..."

"Wonderful," Arthur said. "They're _wonderful_."

Merlin just blinked again. After dozens of emailed links to a variety of shirts, jackets, scarves, jumpers, and trousers, and after two lunches full of negotiations with Arthur, he'd finally agreed to a few soft, worn-looking pieces in various shades of blue and grey. The clothes Arthur had chosen for him weren't much different from any that he might've bought for himself if he'd the time and money to do that sort of shopping.

Separating out the more formal pictures -- Arthur in one his handsome, dark suits and Merlin in a more relaxed grey jacket and scarf -- Merlin picked out a few of them from the more casual set of photographs.

"This one," Merlin said and pointed to one where they sat, curled into each other, Arthur in one of the dark red, soft cashmere jumpers that Merlin secretly adored and Merlin still in the blue scarf, but with the grey jumper he'd suggested earlier. It was probably one of the last pictures they'd had taken and they were both tired, but happy and relaxed, and the smile on Arthur's face was so warm, so genuine and fond. He'd probably realized that as the photograph was being taken, because his own expression was all melting adoration and pride and affection. "Right. This one?"

A tiny frown creased Arthur's forehead as he examined the picture. He smiled, then ducked his head, and nodded. "Right." He took it from Merlin's hands and placed it aside. "Now, pick one for the media release."


End file.
